I walked up the front steps of her light blue house that reminded me of a photograph. It wasn’t big, but it was cute, the shutters and doors perfectly matching and the woodwork and flowers were immaculate. It was so perfect you knew it wasn’t. Something had to be wrong inside. Stopping at the door I stared at the peephole. What was I going to say? Would my words comfort my friend? Was she going to be happy about this? Should I pretend that I didn’t know?
I didn’t have any answers or suggestions. I reached up and rang the doorbell. Jamie’s my best friend, that’s always been so. Like family, even closer. She needed me and I was here.
The door opened and there she stood. As if she’d waited behind it. Her face was paler than normal and her eyes seemed larger, sad and sleepless and teary. She was lost inside herself, down in the rabbit hole. Her expression told the truth.
“You talked to Ben?”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie. I never have and I wouldn’t start now.
“And?” she asked.
And? What did she mean by “and?” How did I feel? How was Ben? What? What was she asking? She was scared and hurting. I knew it. I sat the bag holding the box of treats down and then I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her. That was all I knew to do. She needed comfort. That I could give.
Her stiff body didn’t last. Within seconds her shoulders sagged. Jamie embraced me, brought me into her and buried her face in my neck. She twisted her head like a helpless child and we stood like that for a while. Not worried about who saw us.
“He hasn’t called since I told him,” she said. “Nothing. Not a word.”
If I’d known that I might have shook him and yelled when I saw him earlier. Jamie was eighteen and pregnant in Moulton, Alabama. Did he not see how terrified and frightened Jamie was?
“He’ll call. He just needs a little space to adjust. And if he doesn’t I’ll kick his ass.” I said it and pulled her tighter.
She sniffled and a laugh escaped. “I should have told you first.”
I agreed. But I wasn’t going to say that. Not when she was like this. “I have cupcakes and chocolate covered strawberries. Let’s go eat them while we talk.”
She nodded, then stepped back, her tear filled eyes meeting mine. “I’m scared. Can’t quit shaking.”
I was also frightened. And it wasn’t my life that was about to change. It was hers and Ben’s and the child’s. “I know,” I responded. “I’m here.”
I picked up the bag and walked inside a house I knew so well. That smell of apple cinnamon. I always wondered how her mother managed that. Ours always smelled like what momma cooked that day or the day before.
The house was decorated with nice things and always very tidy. Jamie’s mom was the expectation of Southern womankind. Married to one man for thirty plus years, come hell or the highest waters. There were decorative pillows on her sofa and fresh flowers on the kitchen table. I liked this house and the way it felt. A knickknack heaven I tell you.
Jamie’s dad was the local bank manager and her mother a stay at home mom. Something momma knew nothing about. She had always worked somewhere. Her income was our keeping. As nice as Jamie’s house was I never wanted this life. It wasn’t for me, though it fit well for her, so I guess there’s balance in everything. I was young and wanted adventure, to get out and see the world. I’d wear fancy clothes and expensive shoes and have my own money to buy them. I’d walk Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, or go shopping in Paris or Rome. Maybe that was selfish and wrong of me, but I had to admit my desires. There’s something to be said for my honesty.
We walked up the stairs and opened the first door on the right. Jamie’s bedroom was as big as the room I shared with my three sisters. The coral and aqua colored quilt on her bed was what drew your eyes into it, the moment you walked through the door. There were paper balls, the same matching colors, hanging above her bed. Like flowers they gave it a fairytale touch, though our discussion wouldn’t be.
All this was safe for Jamie. Safe, until right about now. The room was going to change. Would she put a crib against the wall? Would her parents allow her to live here? Would she marry Ben, make a life of her own and refuse the help of her parents?
“Do you love him?” I gently asked, resting the bag on her dresser.
She sighed and nodded her head. “Yes, I’ve loved him for years, but he’s always just seen you. Until the night that he only saw me.” She then pointed at her chest. “The next day it was like it never happened. His eyes were still on you. I kept wishing that wouldn’t be the case and he’d continue to just see me.”
My chest ached and I wanted to hug her. I hadn’t realized until recently that she felt something for Ben. I wish she had told me sooner. Maybe I could’ve helped by telling Ben how I would never feel that way. But would that end his strange fascination? Would he ever turn completely to Jamie?
“I was used to boys liking you. They always have. It didn’t bother me. You’re my best friend and you’re beautiful and guys are drawn to that. That’s something I always understood. Until Ben. He was my first. The boy I wanted for myself. But it’s hard to see me when there’s you.”
The idea of strawberries and cupcakes no longer appealed to me. I loved Jamie. I didn’t want her unhappy. I also wanted to swing at Ben. Break his nose and mash his teeth. Why were guys so dumb? Jamie was sweet, smart, funny and kind, devoted and really pretty. She was an excellent catch. Jamie wanted this life. She’d be a fantastic wife and mother. Didn’t Ben see all that? She wanted the same as him. She was perfect for the life he envisioned for himself, but I was the polar opposite. Not only did I not love Ben. I hated Moulton, Alabama.